Eight Years Gone

Eight years after running away pregnant, I found myself crossing paths with my ex-husband, Howard Quinn.

His friends stared at me in surprise. "So, this is what you have become after leaving Howard? Reduced to a cleaner?"

When I was six-months pregnant, I met with an accident. While I lay there, he was staying by the side of another woman, his so-called true love, in labor, never leaving her side.

When I confronted him, in pieces, he looked at me bored and impatiently. "Don't be so jealous and petty. I have no time for you. As long as you behave, you'll always be Mrs. Quinn."

I couldn't stand it any longer, so I ran away, staying away for eight long years.

Now, those sharp eyes glared at me. "Have you had enough? If so, come home."

What he didn't know was that my husband and daughter had already made dinner, waiting for me and my son to return home.

"Where have you been all these years? Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" Howard Quinn yelled at me, stopping me in my path.

His eyes gleamed maniacally as I looked worriedly at my son, Charlie Jerome, clearing the trash nearby.

Howard's friends stood in front of me, glowering at me angrily.

"You heartless woman! How could you be so cruel?"

"Do you know that Howard had stayed single all these years because of you?"

I ran away eight years ago when I was pregnant. Howard had never forgotten about me, constantly trying to find me. His friends were angry on his behalf.

"We thought you would be doing well after leaving Howard. Who would have thought that you'd end up being a cleaner?"

"That's right. If it weren't for Howard helping you, you were destined to end up being a cleaner anyway. This is what you get for running away!"

Howard furrowed his brows, seemingly affected by the comments.

"Nina, how have you been the past eight years?"

I clutched the red safety vest on me, feeling a sudden wave of emotions. After leaving Howard, I lived in the draftiest of basements, drinking the dregs of others' meals, and laid on the operating table feeling desolate and uncared for.

Luckily, everything was over.

A few of Howard's friends smirked.

"Now, do you know how good Howard is?"

"Why don't you kneel and beg him for forgiveness? Perhaps, if he's in a good mood, he'll forgive you."

They sniggered and looked at me lewdly.

Howard remained silent, having no intention of stopping them.

Charlie thought that I was being assaulted. He quickly rushed over with clenched fists and glared at the men. "Don't you dare lay a finger on my Mommy!"

I was afraid he would get over agitated, so I immediately pulled him into my arms, comforting him, "Charlie, don't worry. I'm fine."

Charlie had the same aloof expression as Howard, so Howard immediately recognized his own son.

He looked at him tenderly. "Charlie, is it? I'm